I have never witnessed such grace as that which she has shown in the past weeks leading to this very difficult moment. She has humbled me with her ability to cope, process and to be a peace. She is unshakeable.

And now I know why.

There is nothing left unsaid.

A few weeks ago my DH and I were watching “Oprah’s Next Chapter”. Me because I love Oprah and he because the subject of that episode was Governor Chris Christie (and I had the remote). During it, Oprah asked Governor Christie about the day his Mother passed. He said she had told him to go to work. He was stunned and told her it could wait. Her response? “There’s nothing left unsaid between us.”

How wonderful. How amazing. How very, very difficult to accomplish.

Now, I’m close to my parents, all three of them. There are no major riffs and no issues (at least not that I’m aware of.) BUT…if, God forbid, they were to leave, can I really say that there is nothing left to speak of? What about my friends and family? My husband? My children? There is so very, very much left unsaid that I’m afraid I would need a year just to get it all out…if I were to find the courage…which I doubt very much I would. It dawned on me though, as I sit here wondering what that kind of total acceptance of a life lived must feel like…that I ought to at least try.

I want that. I think I may even need it.

You see, I have pissed people off my life. Shocked? You must not know me. Welcome. I assure you, it is very true…Its sort of a bad habit, like biting your nails, but with more problematic consequences.

The issue isn’t that I’m an inherently controversial person; I’m actually quite the opposite. I really do try to avoid conflict/fights/issues…unfortunately, when faced with them (as is inevitable in anyone’s life) I tend to not back away from speaking my mind. Again, shocking, I know.

I can’t stand watching someone I care for suffer and doing nothing about it. As there are many people I care for, I tend to find myself “doing something about it” more often than perhaps I ought to. I am also Irish. And a red-head. A typical one. This means I use my words (I remember that being a good thing at one point in my life) and in doing so make my point. Loudly. Occasionally with venom.

In my family (5 red-heads and a blonde with a red beard), this is how we solved problems. We spit it all out, worked it all out and then moved on with a better understanding of where everyone was at. In the rest of the world, this appears to be how problems get worse. Who knew?

Me. That’s who. I’ve learned. I have quite the trail of things left unsaid…the apologies I really do need to make (some I’ve made that went unanswered, others I wasn’t willing to sacrifice my pride to utter…untill now. I think. I hope.) I have things to say to friends. I have things to say to family. I have things to say to myself.

I have good things and great things to say. I have questions I need to answer and some I need to ask. I have tears to shed and pride to swallow. I have laughs to be shared and lessons to be imparted both on and to…I have other things as well.

I have things I do not speak of. I have secrets buried deep and hurts which have been ignored. Despite the bravado I so often portray…I am not a very open person. There are so many things I do not mention…so much I don’t let be heard. I married a man much like me…he is like me but better than me…and he too has much that goes unsaid. I suppose we all do, in some way and on some subjects…to some people…we all have that which we do not wish to address…that which we are afraid of hurting from or causing hurt as a result of.

So much left unsaid.

In the world of blogs, Facebook, twitter, text, email…in the world we live in where communication has never been more abundant, in this world so filled with the noise of chatter and information from every direction…in this world at this moment the things we not speak of are deafening in their silence.

Perhaps, just maybe…just this once, I could make a wee bit of real noise…just one call…one note. One message that needs to be received could finally be heard. My co-worker, this woman I am blessed to know, she is not a loud woman. But her courage to be known is heard above the din.